


Logince And Sons Go To McDonald’s

by screamingatstars



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Crack, Gay Disaster Logic | Logan Sanders, Gen, Kid Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Kid Dr. Emile Picani, Kid Morality | Patton Sanders, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, McDonald's, Parents Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Siblings, Sort Of, Teasing, That’s for me to know and you to decide, do I know what this fic is?, even tho in this he’s pan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23123686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamingatstars/pseuds/screamingatstars
Summary: In which questionable justifications are used to exploit a fast food promotion and Roman knows exactly what Logan’s disaster pan weaknesses are, to the delight of their three teenage sons.
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 81





	Logince And Sons Go To McDonald’s

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally 700 words of who-knows-what that I didn’t plan to post, and then I went to Disney and it doubled in length (hour-long lines are a good place to write, who knew), and then I did some cleanup to post it and it got 200 more words. Yay for unexpected developments I guess?  
> Hope you enjoy this one, for real. Feel free to skip the end notes if you don’t want to read me explaining why I care more about this crack fic than I really should.  
> For E.

“Um, Dad?” Patton asked hesitantly from the middle seat of the car. “Are you sure we should be doing this? Isn’t it kind of stealing?”

Sitting next to him, his younger brother Virgil elbowed him playfully in the ribs. 

“No, it’s not, Patton, think about the free McDonald’s,” he said. “Come to the dark side, we have cookies.”

“He’s already had his two cookies today, Virgil, that’s not going to work,” said Emile from Patton’s other side. Patton nodded in agreement. Up in the passenger seat, one of their dads twisted around to face his three kids.

“Trust me on this, Virge, oldest children are always the most responsible. And I should know, seeing as I’m married to one.” He grinned over at his husband, their Pa, who was doing his best to drive the car safely despite the distractions from his family.

“Roman, I am trying to safely get us to the incredibly unhealthy eating establishment you and Virgil requested, please refrain from reinforcing stereotypes.” 

“Says the living embodiment of the oldest child archetype! Logan Sanders: eldest child of four; overly responsible older brother to three very put-out sisters; serious, protective, and well-mannered father to three teenage boys-“

“And husband to an overly dramatic younger child who will be sitting in the middle seat if he continues to distract me while I am trying to drive.” Pa kept his eyes on the road, but Patton could see the smirk on his face. Dad gasped, placing a hand over his heart in mock betrayal. Virgil grinned.

“Yeah, come on, Dad, don’t distract him from getting us to McDonald’s,” he said. 

“My own children, ganging up on me!” Dad threw his hands up. “This is homophobic.” 

Pa shot a brief look at his husband before returning his eyes to the road. “Roman, you are a full-grown adult. Besides, you are not even homosexual. The correct term would be biphobic.”

“Excuse you, it’s still a type of homophobia! When I call people who disapprove of your sexuality homophobic, you’ve never, ever corrected me to panphobic! Besides...”

As their fathers continued to bicker up front, the three brothers in the back shared a good-natured eye roll. They were well used to this by now.

“I’m still not sure we should be doing this,” Patton said, continuing his earlier point. “It really feels like stealing.”

Virgil groaned and whipped out his phone, typing away for a second before turning it around to show the screen. It was a picture he had taken earlier of a promotional poster, promising free fries with any order for families with children thirteen or younger.

“See?” He insisted, “it’s an official thing, and I'm thirteen for another three weeks, so it’s not even stealing! Emile, back me up here.”

“Well, they are the ones offering the promotion… even though I don’t think that driving to five different locations and ordering one burger at each to not have to pay for any fries is what they intended.” 

Patton nodded emphatically. “That’s my point! Can’t we just stick to one McDonald’s?”

Virgil chose that moment to employ his secret weapon: adorable puppy dog eyes. He fixed them on Emile, catching Patton in the crossfire.

“Think about how Remy gets with his Starbucks,” he said, his eyes two big brown orbs. “You wouldn’t make him pass up an opportunity for free coffee, would you? Why would you do the same thing to me with this?” 

Emile squirmed in his seat, face flushing. “That’s- that’s different! You’re my little brother, he’s my boyfriend!” Up in the front, the two dads paused in their arguing.

“That’s right, we should’ve invited Remy to come with us!” Roman smacked his forehead. “How could I forget about him?”

“We don’t have any more seats in the car-“

“I, uh, don’t think he’d have wanted to come anyway,” Emile hurried to say. “He’d think it was cheating on his Starbucks. Can we please not talk about Remy right now?” His entire face was covered in a bright red blush. 

“Aww, look how flustered Em gets talking about him, that’s cute!” Even Patton temporarily forgot his argument about the morality of abusing a fast food promotion in favor of teasing his little brother. “Three and a half months, almost four, and you still can’t not blush whenever he’s even mentioned!” 

Virgil, too, was busy fulfilling his contractual obligation as a younger sibling. 

“Gee, Em, when’s the wedding?” He pressed. “I’d say fourteen’s a little young, normally, but maybe they’ll make an exception for you two when they see how smitten you both are.”

Pa raised his voice to be heard above the sounds of the road, his husband, and his children. “We will not be allowing our fourteen-year-old son to get married, Roman, no matter how obviously in love he is. Romanticism does not extend to child marriage.”

“Pa! We’re not talking about getting married anytime soon!”

“Oh, so you are talking about getting married eventually?”

“Dad!”

Emile was mercifully saved from his family’s attacks by their Pa pulling into the drive-through line. There was only a single car in front of them, and he rolled the driver’s side window down in preparation.

“I’ll order everyone a single burger, obtain the fries, and then we’ll go to a second location and order one more for additional fries. Is that a satisfactory compromise, boys?” Pa asked.

“We should probably get an ice cream for Em, his face is burning up,” Virgil joked. Patton perked up at the mention of a treat. 

“Can we get ice cream?” Three voices said in unison. Emile, Patton, and their Dad all looked at each other in surprise before bursting into laughter. 

“Great minds think alike,” Dad announced. “Lo, what do you say? I think this is enough of an adventure to deserve some ice cream.”

“I disagree,” said Pa with a frown. “We’re already feeding them incredibly unhealthy food, not to mention you already had them indulge their sweet teeth- sweet tooths? Is there a correct pluralization?” He paused a moment, staring contemplatively into the void, before shaking his head. “Never mind. What I mean is, I think the boys have had more than enough sugar for the time being. Too much is detrimental to their development.”

In the back, the three sons in question drooped. Their other father, meanwhile, had a mischievous smile on his face. As the car in front of them pulled away, the family drove up to the ordering box. The faint static over the system provided the perfect distraction, holding their Pa’s attention as he waited to place their order. Dad turned and winked at the boys before focusing back on his husband.

In one swift motion, he unbuckled his seatbelt, leaned across the gap between the seats, grasped Pa’s hand, and planted a kiss on his cheek. As quickly as he had initiated the motion, he was buckled again and facing forward, face impassive as if nothing at all had happened, leaving Pa the same shade of red as Emile and a sputtering mess to boot. 

“What’s the matter, my king? You seem to be a bit flustered, there.” His Dad’s face was arranged into the picture of innocence, but his eyes gleamed with mischief. Patton covered his mouth with his hand to hold in a giggle. Nicknames were one of Pa’s weaknesses, he knew. Meanwhile, Pa was still blushing furiously and unable to form any words as the ordering box finally crackled to life.

“ _Welcome to McDonald’s, what can I get for you today?_ ”

Dad leaned across again, though not as closely as before since his seatbelt remained fastened, and raised his voice, confident and sure.

“Yes, hello, I need three regular cheeseburgers, one with no bun and one with extra onions, as well as one hamburger with extra tomatoes.” He waited a moment for the voice in the box to confirm before continuing, patting his disaster husband’s hand as he did so. “And I’d also like two vanilla milkshakes and two chocolate milkshakes, all medium sized.” The boys shared a silent celebration as their Pa offered no resistance, eyes glazed over and fixed on where Dad’s hand covered his.

“ _All right, will that be everything?_ ”

“Yes, and thank you.” Dad motioned for Pa to drive forward. After a long hesitation, he finally shook his head like he was clearing it and slowly pulled them away from the box, toward the next window. His driving was uneven, with a slight weave back and forth that never would’ve been there normally.

“Roman Sanders,” he finally managed, sounding slightly out of breath. “Unless I am mistaken, which is an uncommon occurrence, you just utilized the fact that unexpected displays of affection shut down my mental processes to advance your own unhealthy eating agenda.” 

Dad’s voice shifted into the pseudo-royal accent he often used for theater productions. 

“What, I? My love, how you wound me so! A prince consort would never take advantage of his king in such an underhanded way!”

At that, Virgil piped up from the back.

“He’s lying, he totally just used the fact that you’re a disaster pan to get us ice cream.”

Dad sighed in defeat, resting his forehead against the steering wheel. Pa reached out and rubbed his back consolingly. When he finally raised his head, he gazed forlornly into the rearview mirror, making eye contact with each of his sons.

“Is there anything else my conspiring and traitorous family wants before we return home? Obviously this is your Dad’s day to make the executive decisions for this unit, I refuse to fight any more metaphorical battles of will.”

The surrender was met with lighthearted cheers from all four of the others, and more than a few confused looks from the McDonald’s employees when they pulled up to the pickup window for their food and coveted ice cream, still heartily applauding.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact time, this has actually been my comfort fic to write for a little while. Working on this without my usual personal standards for posting helped me not fall apart during a big emotional life event a few weeks ago, and sort of kept me sane since then. It’s also been my lighthearted go-to work when I’m stressed out about the whole COVID-19 situation, especially since there’s been multiple confirmed cases in my area, competitions have been cancelled, and schools are being closed. Basically, this silly drabble is my way of working through things and cheering myself up. Positive expressions and outlets of emotions are great, who knew?  
> Anyway, hope you all are safe, healthy, and happy out there, and thanks for reading.


End file.
